


Chalupas, Blankets, Wandering Thoughts

by MortalAnonymous



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst and Romance, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Established Relationship, Fanfiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalAnonymous/pseuds/MortalAnonymous
Summary: Just a pair of agent soulmates, separated by a choice to go rogue, gathering their thoughts on how they got here.





	1. Dakota

Well, here he was, drowning his sorrows again. This time it was in a platter of chalupas. Other men might have chosen to drown their sorrows in alcohol, but Vinnie Dakota preferred grease. Grease was warm. It filled him. He could almost pretend he was feeling the warmth of happiness restore his aching heart. Chalupas, cheese fries, burgers, egg rolls...ok, not egg rolls. Those were too painful to wallow in, thanks to that jerk making him feel like this in the first place. But other than that Dakota had tried it all this time around.

The short, wavy-haired man sighed, sagging further onto the arm supporting his head as he sat at the window bar of the Mexican restaurant he'd chosen for lunch, watching the people go by. Lots of partners out there. Lots of pairs. Lots of couples. It was like they said, cold turkeys were everywhere when you quit something, or in this case, when it quit you.

Stupid Cavendish. Normally Dakota would be here with the taller, older, admittedly thinner man, sharing his chalupas and filling himself with the joy food usually brought him. It wasn't just sorrow; Dakota ate all of his feelings. Dressing in tracksuits was not an irony lost on either man, and practically hearing Cavendish mock him with witty remarks over it only made Dakota miss him harder.

It had been two weeks since Balthazar Cavendish had gone rogue from Paranormal Investigation Group, leaving his partner behind in the process. Dakota didn't remember all of the details, but he was pretty sure he'd had his memory wiped before the Brit had booked it. He'd heard from their – his boss, Mr. Block about the whole 'rogue agent' thing, and the big blank space in his memory between trying to convince Cavendish to stay and then kind of made the pieces easy to put together. Two weeks made it officially clear that Cavendish wasn't changing his mind, as well. That or he was dead.

Dakota was bitter.

Thinking that Cavendish might have hurt himself was a worry that had kept him from sleeping. As well it was like Cavendish hadn't even remembered the hundred or so times his partner had literally thrown away his life to save his. A hundred timelines done over, that version of Dakota being written over and sent to some remote island in the middle of nowhere, just so the current Dakota could save Cavendish from disaster and keep him around.

When the secret had gotten out and Cavendish had _seen_ this with his own eyes back during the Pistachio Uprising, the older gentleman had acted truly touched as well. He'd been grateful then, even going so far as to try and shield Dakota an extra amount in turn as the humans rebelled.

So what had happened?

Cavendish had thrown Dakota to the wayside anyway, that was what.

Somehow their new job had planted a seed in Cavendish's mind, and that seed had only grown, overtaking the man and making him forget himself, almost making him seem like an entirely different person.

Dakota wished it was a literal seed, like some evil pistachio monster sprout he could just rip out of the other and save him from.

Alas, no. Though the two had been saved from unemployment after getting fired from being time agents, effectively trapping them in the twenty-first century, their new job was no more glamorous than guarding nuts had been. In fact, it was even less so, since they were now intergalactic garbage boys. And that had caused Cavendish some severe frustration.

The absolute lack of recognition for saving the world from hostile plant takeover had truly bothered the man. Their reward of being _fired_ had lit its own fire in the older man. Dakota had done his best to keep things light, console the other man and show his partner that it he didn't need to be center stage to take pride in a job well done, but the injustice had just been too much for Cavendish to handle.

And then he'd started talking about aliens.

Dakota felt another sigh coming on as he processed all the conversations they'd had leading up to where they were now. He'd been there to witness some of the alien encounters, but not all of them. Despite his bitterness as well, he still wanted the best for Cavendish. Maybe they weren't the ideal odd couple or anything, but they'd grown close over the years of assignment together, becoming best friends, and Dakota at least had thought neither one could live without the other anymore.

Perhaps that had been what had blinded him to any potential warning signs. Dakota hadn't been terribly crushed when every single undiscovered alien specimen, living or inanimate, that they tried to show their boss had escaped. Dakota believed that they'd seen so many already that they were sure to get it right one of these times.

Cavendish, not so much. He'd become obsessed, Dakota realized much too late, and all his breezy remarks and lighthearted brush-offs had only sent his partner spiraling, making him feel even less recognized, like he was making less progress.

Ok, so maybe Cavendish wasn't as much of a jerk as Dakota let on. Maybe Dakota hadn't read the situation as well as he could have. Give him a break, he wasn't a licensed psychotherapist or anything.

As well, love was a pain when it came to reading situations well. Everything was all rose-tinted, and if Dakota had had anyone to share the sentiment with, he would say that made it twice as hard considering he was already wearing orange-tinted glasses. It was clever, come on, he would say.

Instead he only regretted no one was here to hear his oh-so-snappy banter, as a quick glance around the proximity confirmed. He also regretted how he had handled supporting Cavendish after the most recent sighting the man had made, for that had been what tipped the man over the edge.

This one had been an outright abduction. And Dakota hadn't seen it. He'd been nearby, munching on a lunch he'd packed, but had not been facing the same way as a mere twenty feet away Cavendish had claimed to witness some poor sap being sucked up into a giant purple alien mothership, which he had then been unable to prove.

Dakota had not wanted to discredit his partner, and never outright said that it couldn't have happened, but at the same time, how could he claim it was the truth when he _didn't_ know for sure? Considering the things they'd seen especially, yes it was _possible..._ but it had been hot, Cavendish had been cranky, and any attempt to gather evidence had simply come up empty.

Dakota couldn't tell his boss the truth when he didn't know the truth. Cavendish had seen the lack of a voucher as betrayal. Dakota tried to say that if the other said he saw something it ought to be worth looking into by the better-equipped agents, but Mr. Block had cut him off. In Cavendish's state of mind, he probably thought Dakota ought to have tried harder. Maybe Cavendish was right. But Dakota had still thought calming down and taking a step back was in his partner's best interest.

It still might have been, but Dakota just wasn't knowledgeable enough on the topic to know how he ought to have persuaded Cavendish to do so. He'd only been able to follow in a mesmerized stupor of sorts as Cavendish lost it, leading the two of them into PIG's weapons facility and stealing a whole damn arsenal.

The persistent hesitant remarks from what Cavendish had seen as an escalating traitor had been the end. As soon as Dakota had gotten back home, it was just in time to get his mind wiped.

So here Dakota was.

He wished he'd been more open when the signs had started forming. Been more supportive and tried harder to remind Cavendish if their own bond, rather than only bringing it up when the man was about to walk out.

In these past couple of weeks, Dakota's own speech had been the only thing keeping him going. It was all that gave him hope. He and Cavendish _had_ always been a team. They _did_ fight, or at least squabble, half the time, but they always made up in the end. In fact, Dakota told himself he had to know that they'd be alright in the end because they'd seen their future. A future where the fighting had gotten to them so much that the tension had been snapped by a single egg roll, and yet even after all _that_ , they had made up and erased the timeline where they'd broken up. Both of them had broken dozens of rules to get the other back, both gone through dozens of convoluted and elaborate plans to fix their relationship, and in the end they'd gotten a happy life together.

Dakota refused to let the nagging fear of how no longer being time agents could potentially change that future.

He also refused to compare the silliness of an egg roll being the root of a breakup to one so serious and ongoing as...all this.

He swallowed a mouthful of chalupa to stuff those troublesome thoughts down.

Cavendish was just hung up on justice. He'd make his way back here eventually, surely. He wanted recognition, Dakota could understand that. But why did he have to be the _world's_ hero? Why did he have to push so hard for 'glamour'? What did he think joining a _secret_ organization like the time agents or PIG was about in the first place?

And why couldn't he be happy just saving the world side-by-side with Dakota? A man who already acknowledged his efforts and loved the living daylight out of him despite what a stuffy, arrogant know-it-all Cavendish could be sometimes. Cavendish was also bright and handsome as could be, a proper dapper gentleman, though hilariously clumsy to go with it, and he had a tendency to lose common sense or focus on the wrong things. That just made him delightfully quirky. He was endearing when he was bashful or indignant, which only invited playful teasing. When he let loose he was plenty playful himself, which made such rarities a real treat. He was kind and sweet at the heart of it all, and when he was around it just never failed to bring a smile. Not to mention he was incredibly, admirably determined and full of righteous spirit. It always managed to motivate Dakota.

Hand touching an empty platter, Dakota registered that he was officially out of chalupas. One more sigh. "Oh, Cav..." he lamented, "I wish I would've told you how happy I was every day, just having you as _my_ hero." He watched another pair of people walk by the window, holding hands. "Well, whaddya gonna do..."

Unsure how much this had really helped, Dakota pushed his tall chair out and dug into his wallet to throw a couple bucks on the counter as tip before heading out. Looking at the time on his phone, he was done being glum for now anyway. Rent was due tomorrow, and he was working alone these days. He couldn't afford to clock in late.


	2. Cavendish

The middle of the woods was a lousy place to live. Cavendish couldn't believe how he'd never noticed it on quite this level before. Then again, he'd never been _alone_ in the middle of the woods before. He'd always had his partner Dakota with him to distract him with utter nonsense or the rare comment that was actually funny. He'd always had Dakota with him to help gather berries, fight off bears, save him from falling in rivers and to snuggle up beside under a warm blanket.

Now, however, as the green-suited man finally sputtered his way to the bank of the river he'd slipped into while attempting to refill his canteen – admittedly his sleek-soled spectator shoes were not the most ideal for roughing it – Cavendish could safely say that on one's own, the wilderness was not to be enjoyed.

Recovering his breath, the tall mustachioed Englishman picked himself up and began peeling off his sopping waistcoat. His canteen had been a casualty in this misadventure, unfortunately, but no matter. Cavendish might not have a paycheck anymore, but by Jove he had the gumption! He would get by.

Once back at his sad, sparse little campsite, Cavendish was quick to hop behind the modesty curtain he'd fashioned from fronds and a vine between two trees and strip the rest of the way. Then he wrapped himself firmly and snugly in a thick blanket and hung his dripping garments on the spit he also used to cook. From there he would build a fire and simply sit to both warm and dry himself.

The silence while he did all this was nigh maddening. And the tasks themselves incredibly boring. It was like a riff track for Cavendish's life had gone suddenly silent. Probably because it had.

Alone with his thoughts while he had nothing to do but un-sop himself, Cavendish let out a despondent hem as he thought naturally of Dakota. It wasn't hard for that loud-mouthed clown to enter one's thoughts normally, but anytime it was quiet made it a hundred times easier. Especially when it was quiet, Dakota wasn't there, and one had run out on him with such a gaping conflict left unresolved.

Cavendish missed Dakota. That much was easy to admit. He regretted walking out in such a dramatic fashion. That much was also a given. But he wasn't going back, and he truly wished Dakota had tried just a little harder to see things from his perspective. Cavendish might have lost his cool, but sometimes Dakota was...infuriating, to say the least, and repeated instances of that flippant attitude had been bottling up something awful as of recent. Ever since they'd gotten new jobs.

Cavendish knew what he saw. It hadn't been because he was "tired and cranky"...although he might have had a tiny history of slightly immature tantrum-related exaggerations in the past. But this wasn't that! He'd seen _many_ instances of unmonitored alien activity, and so had Dakota! Dakota was being the immature one here, cowering because of things like "rent" and "being stuck in a single era of time" instead of standing up for him and helping him rob PIG without a winge!

...dear lord, when had Dakota actually become the mature half in this relationship? Cavendish pouted, knowing the excuses he made were just that. Though it was hard to do, he acknowledged that Dakota could _sometimes_ act like a responsible adult, and he had made a fair few points regarding their status of living, but really. As he'd told the track-suited nincompoop, Dakota was usually the one for breaking rules, especially when it came to doing so for the right cause! Cavendish wanted to save the world here!

Ok, well, he also wanted a promotion. A big promotion. And a lot of overdue accolades. But was that so wrong?

He was out there every day busting his tail, with a partner busting his chops, cleaning up things most people didn't even know were there in the first place. Sure this time around their boss had been kinder, but it didn't make it any less disheartening when he didn't believe what he heard. If anything, that chipper tone was more patronizing.

Likewise, Dakota had been so...pass-offish about the whole incident. He'd been more and more pass-offish about Cavendish's concerns the more they grew. Telling Cavendish to take it easy, to not worry about it, to seek therapy or take up yoga or something. Balderdash. Action was what was needed now! Aliens were threatening the very planet!

Letting his eyes slide from side to side, the bespectacled man supposed perhaps he wasn't taking much action at the moment...but he was out here so he _could_ take action! The giant mothership was only just over in the next clearing. Cavendish was keeping an eye on it, as well as aiming to prove it existed despite its confounding attempts to conceal itself from absolutely every set of eyes but his.

How could Dakota not see the importance in that? Alright, so perhaps Dakota hadn't actually seen the ship. Perhaps helping him dig for proof had yielded nothing that actually helped Cavendish's case. And perhaps Dakota had never outright denied the possibility, never called it unimportant, and had still helped the other man despite his comments.

But...

But...

Perhaps Dakota had just been trying to calm Cavendish down because he'd been spiraling.

With another glance around the campsite, the wet, naked man registered how preposterous this setup must actually look. It hit him just how suddenly he'd stormed out, and how irrational it might have been to recklessly raid his own workplace, even if he only had good deeds in mind.

Dakota was good at keeping a mood subdued. He was comfortable. He was confoundingly charming, strangely witty and able to make a joke out of the most mundane observations. That habit was exactly what could get so frustrating, but compounding it with the frustration Cavendish had been feeling over being ignored by his boss, perhaps he had misinterpreted his partner's quips and suggestions. The taller gentleman did have a tendency to misplace his focus, and recognized he sometimes needed something to root him down in a spiral.

Cavendish reeled in Dakota's overly-free reckless spirit, and Dakota tied down Cavendish's high-strung obsessiveness. That's just how they balanced each other. It worked for them. Cavendish had accepted that.

So maybe Dakota wasn't as stupid as he'd been making him out to be.

In fact, Dakota wasn't stupid at all. Or cowardly. Dakota was actually fiercely loyal to those he cared about. Protective and selfless too, as evidenced by the hundred or so times he'd erased his own timeline to keep sharing Cavendish's. That right there made Cavendish feel a pang of regret over his own actions. This was almost like throwing all that heartfelt love and devotion back at the man, abandoning him. But the Englishman also hoped Dakota had realized by now that he'd half done that to protect him.

Since Dakota wasn't with him one hundred percent on stopping the alien mothership, Cavendish saw that continued involvement from his partner would not only hinder his own mission, but would likely end up with Dakota getting into undeserved trouble. Not to mention at the time, being emotionally charged, Cavendish had seen his lack of involvement as pure backstabbery. Add that onto the regret pile.

He also refused to think about what might transpire if the worst should happen out here. If he died now, no one would know. Dakota wouldn't know, nor would he be capable of time travel.

Firmly tugging the blanket around him tighter, Cavendish grunted to distract himself from _that_ particular spiral. Though thoughts of Dakota carried on without consent. The man was bad with words when it came to negotiation or expressing his feelings, but he was good at seeing things for how they really were, and had a blunt honesty about sharing it. Cavendish admired that about him, in a way. It was a quality that had helped them many a time.

Thinking of time, the elder gentleman recalled a version of Dakota saying that he never admitted when Dakota was right. That he always had to put Dakota down for the sake of his ego. They'd broken up in that timeline, that comment being what tipped the iceberg after a swiped egg roll had brought that boiling tension to the surface. Quite thankfully, they'd made up in the end, and put the timestream right by them. Cavendish couldn't help thinking this current falling out was even more evidence that Dakota was right about him never saying Dakota was right, for perhaps if Cavendish had listened and taken a step back from his actions, they would still be together, and working on this as a team.

Well, if the stout man was here, Cavendish would be more than ready to tell him.

Blast it all. The more Cavendish thought about what he was doing and what he was away from, the more he was just depressing himself.

But he still had to do this. The fact of the matter was that he couldn't go back even if he wanted to, and Dakota still likely didn't believe the other had truly seen something, so he would also be owed a big fat "I told you so."

There. Now Cavendish was remembering himself a bit better.

Maybe Cavendish's reasoning for pursuing the alien ship wasn't entirely noble, but it was still more noble than not considering he was the only one who actually _knew_ about it. He was going to save humanity whether humanity liked it or not! Whether they recognized him or not! But, most preferably, with them recognizing him.

This was another thing Dakota likely couldn't understand about his motivations. The smaller man liked to go on about how Cavendish didn't _need_ to be world-renowned, but at the same time, had Dakota ever actually striven for such a thing?

Dakota was a laid-back soul, happy to take what life gave him and be content where the wind took him. He didn't kick up a fuss about lost dreams or ever mention aspiring for lofty greatness.

Meanwhile, Cavendish had been a liaison in the Royal Court of England. He'd had a future as a concert pianist should he have chosen it. He'd spent his whole life schooling in various departments and trying to make the world a better place where he thought it mattered most: the frontlines.

When he'd joined the time agency, he'd thought it sounded awfully important, keeping time itself safe, but he'd ended up...guarding pistachios. With a ninny no one else wanted to partner up with. Though apparently no one had wanted to partner up with Cavendish, either. He didn't know how, but in this circle he had ended up on the bottom rung of the social ladder. This also had turned out to be one job he actually wasn't...always the best at. He could be a bit too proud, hoping for so much out of his work, but honestly...he just missed it.

As much as Cavendish liked corn dogs and bungee jumping and silly frolics through the park, he also enjoyed dignity. Some refinement now and again. At the very least he'd thought his coworkers would give him some of that, even if the world didn't considering it was a secret organization, but no. He and Dakota both had only been mocked and beaten down time and again, and in the end they'd truly only had each other.

It was a good thing they'd ended up getting along so well.

It might have even been a good thing that such unfortunate circumstances had brought them together in the first place. It was actually enviable and a wonder Dakota could manage to stay so cheerful after all they'd been put through. Cavendish had to wonder if that actually had anything to do with _him_.

Cavendish shook his head slowly, sadly. Perhaps eventually he would find his way back to Dakota. Perhaps eventually Dakota would even understand. But for now Cavendish could only move forward and prove to everyone – prove to _himself_ that he wasn't just a total screw-up and a loser. He also wished he would dry quicker so he could stop pining for the love of the one person who had treated him as a close friend and equal from the beginning. The one person Cavendish was truly despising living without.

The man by the campfire stood to fetch himself another blanket. It was no second body to hug him in comfort, but if he tried hard enough he might be able to pretend.


End file.
